Careless Whispers
by Rosegold25
Summary: Of all the places Beverly could have gone after graduation, Arkham was the last place she expected. At first, it seems like any other mental institution, and then she notices it. The whispering, the unmarked boxes, the way Crane stalks around; and due to an accident, she finds herself in the middle. Will she survive?


_This is my first fic! I hope it's alright! _

_All Nolanverse characters and settings do not belong to me. _

_Anyway, on with the story!_

* * *

Chapter one

AR_KHAM ASYLUM_

I looked up at the tall gray building and gulped.

Of all the places I could have worked at after graduation, this was the absolute last place I expected to be assigned to. One of the most infamous asylums, in one of the most dangerous cities in the country. My mother had been vehemently opposed to the idea of me working in this "godforsaken city" as my mother put it, honestly, as I stood at the cold doors of this place, I came close to agreeing with her.

I wouldn't have been there had it not been for Dr. Rickman, my Abnormal Psychology professor back in University. I remember it like it was yesterday…

_The class of around 37 people shuffled into the room, Dr. Allan Rickman patiently stood at the front of the room with a stack of papers in his arms, glancing up at the clock. When each of us had finally sat down, he took a deep breath "I'm going to pass out your exam results now." He said with a bored tone. "You all did well…in general." He stole a glance at Albert Strong, who it was rumored was last in the class, who examined his fingernails with disinterest. Rickman sighed and proceeded to pass out the exam results, he paused in front of my desk and placed the paper face down on my desk. I picked it up and turned it over. My jaw dropped, _98.7% _I thought, I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure I would get a middle of the road grade, say 75%, not something like this! My lips slowly curled into an excited smile, my eyes widened. "Miss Fisher?" Rickman asked, my head snapped upwards, I hadn't realized he was still standing there, "y-yes?" _

_"Can I see you after class, please?" I nodded, a few people stared warily at me. What had I done this time? One he had finished passing out the tests he returned to the front of the room and said, "thank you all, and good luck. It's been a pleasure teaching you, class dismissed." My classmates stood, chattering excitedly until a sharp glance from Dr. Rickman silenced all of them. If there was one thing about Simon J. Banning University that I wouldn't miss, it had to be Dr. Rickman. As soon as they had all left I stood up from my desk and walked over to him. He absentmindedly shuffled through a stack of papers, shaking his head about something. "You wanted to see me Dr. Rickman?" I asked nervously. _

_"Yes, I did." He said, stacking the papers neatly and putting them into a desk drawer, he gestured to the stool next to his desk, "Sit down." I did as I was told, wringing my hands, Dr. Rickman had never been the warmest person, this most likely wouldn't be pleasant. He turned to me, "first of all, congratulations on your exam grade, it was one of the best in the class." I nodded, _

_"Thank you, sir…"_

_"However" he said, cutting me off, "I was a bit surprised at one of your answers" he took out her exam booklet from the top drawer of his desk, "specifically, number seventeen." He turned to, "most people answered that the woman was schizophrenic, but you said that didn't have enough information to answer the question. Why is that?"_

_I took a deep breath, "well, it's true that she is socially distant, depressed, forgetful, often has insomnia, and makes odd statements, which are early symptoms of schizophrenia but those are the symptoms, not the disease. I'd have to actually meet the woman before I could tell if she was schizophrenic or just depressed. So, I couldn't answer the question." Dr. Rickman stared at me for a long ten seconds, and nodded, he even smiled at me. It was the first genuine smile I'd seen him make for the past for the past three years "very good, Beverly; you know, you're the only person in the class who got that question right." I smiled, hopefully it didn't look as forced as it felt, "with that said, I have a job offer for you."_

_My interest piqued, "what's that?"_

_"Don't worry, I'm not asking you to be my teacher's assistant, though I desperately need one" he laughed, "It's a job as a psychotherapist at Arkham Asylum, in Gotham city. I told an old colleague of mine all about you, he thinks you'd be perfect for the job, what do you say?" My face paled, Gotham city? I'd heard all about it of course, it was one of the most famous mental institutions in the country and the patients! There were some scary people in there! I wasn't ready for it, was I? But I found myself saying "thank you, sir."_

_Rickman smiled, "wonderful. Of course, you'll need to go through the general selection process," he said, pulling out some paperwork, "interviews and all that. But I don't think it'll be too much trouble for you, would you fill this out please?"_

_It was a job application, it had all the regular questions on it, name, age, sex, weight etc. Nothing new there. I was finished filling it out before I thought about what I was doing. Rickman swiped it from me, "well," he said, "I'll just mail this, along with your credentials, and you should hear back from them." I just nodded, and skittered out the door, hastily muttering a goodbye._

I thought for sure they were just going to shred my application and never call, but about a month later I received a telephone call from one of the doctors, saying they were considering me for the job and asked me to come to the asylum in a month's time. My father told me I should reconsider, my mother asked me what I thought I was doing, my brother David told me to go for it. Against better judgment, I listened to my brother.

_Well, _I thought, _there's no going back now. _Gathering my courage, I pushed open the doors.

…

I stood in the foyer, observing my surroundings. Inside, it looked just like most hospital, clean, white, everything smelling of lemons. It was slightly anticlimactic, somewhere in my mind I had expected it to be more exciting, given its patient history. I looked around the room, where was I supposed to go? There wasn't exactly a giant, lit arrow with "New Doctors Here" written on it. They had probably mentioned it in the letter, but I had left it in my apartment. Feeling like a complete idiot, I walked up to the receptionist's desk. "Hi" I said as pleasantly as I could.

"What can I do for you?" She said, smiling toothily

"My name is Beverly Fisher, I'm here about a job…"

"Bev?" I heard someone ask. I froze, _no, it can't be… _only one person on Earth had ever called me Bev. I turned around, my eyes lit up _it is! _

"Wade!" I ran up to him and threw my arms around him. "I can't believe it's you!"

Wade Eckhart. He had been in the year above me in university, we had been friends, but it had been a long time since they had spoken face to face. "Where have you been, what happened, why did you-?" I asked, bombarding him with questions.

"It's a long story, how about we do dinner and we'll catch up, okay?" He said quickly, "you're probably looking for Dr. Avery, he's starting the interview process, come on, I'll show you where it is!" Before I had time to protest he grabbed my wrist and dragged me down the hall. I sputtered furiously, trying to get a word in, before he dropped me off at the door. "I get off at 6:00, meet me outside the asylum then?"

I nodded, "okay."

"Great!" He said, "See you then!" I opened the door and stepped inside. There were already two people in the room. A woman with fair skin, bright red hair and big green eyes sat in the corner, a tall, slightly older African-American man sat in a chair to the left side of the room. I smiled at the two of them, the man half-smiled back but the woman barely acknowledged my existence. I sat in a chair at the back of the room, the analog clock on the back wall displayed "12:30" in flashing green numbers; I was dead on time. No sooner had I sat down then the door burst open again. "Is this everyone?" The man asked as he strutted into the room briskly, "good." He turned and faced us.

"Welcome to Arkham, my name is Dr. Peter Avery. Before you begin here, there are some things I should clear up." He adjusted his suit and sighed, "first of all, not all of the patients in this institution are here because they blew up a few people." He paused, presumably for laughter, he got none, "the residents here are not inmates; they are patients. Many of them have never physically hurt another human in their lives, nor would they consider doing it. I expect you to treat them all as such, even if they were deranged killers; do I make myself clear?" The three of us nodded, "alright."

The overly serious look disappeared from his face and was replaced with a half-smile "and now that I'm done with that spiel, let's get to the real business. I suppose you're expecting me to have a long conversation with you in order to analyze your effectiveness as a doctor?" There were a few murmurs of agreement. "At Arkham we don't do things that way; we've all considered your credentials very carefully, you all seem at least _competent_. The first day on the job is a mixture of procedures. For most of the time you'll be shadowing other doctors to learn the ins and outs of the facility, and performing standard duties. For the rest of the week you will perform all of your normal duties, under supervision of course. After your first week, a group of doctors will get together to discuss your performance and we will decide whether or not you're right for your job. If we decide you are, then you will be able to continue working here, if not, good luck out there. Understand?" We each nodded.

"Good" he looked down at his clipboard, "Leonard Stone?"

"Yes" he said,

"You're with Dr. Childs, he should be in room 270, second floor." Dr. Avery looked back down at his clipboard "Georgette Black?"

"Here." Said the woman, raising her head slightly.

"Dr. Weller, she's in the morgue, walk straight out of this room, take the first right, keep walking until you reach the end of the corridor and turn left, it's the first door you see, got it?" Georgette nodded absentmindedly, I wondered if she'd digested a word of that.

"Thank you, you're dismissed" said Avery,

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, he had skipped me. Why did he skip me? Had they decided last minute that I wasn't qualified? Leonard and Georgette seemed confused too, but left the room, each giving me a slightly worried glance on the way out. I stood up "excuse me?"

Avery looked up at me, his eyes widened slightly, "oh, I'm sorry!" He said, "One moment" he flipped through the pages on his clipboard and finally found what he was looking for "Beverly Fisher?"

I nodded, "right, Dr. Rickman's student…" he muttered as he walked towards me. _Oh, so he was Dr. Rickman's colleague. _I thought. "You were supposed to be with Dr. Burke today" he continued "but she's… ill, and won't be back for a long while," he paused, "instead you'll be shadowing, me." The look on his face said _dreary as it sounds to the both of us… _

I nodded, "thank you" no sooner had I said that then he brushed past me and opened the door. I hurried to catch up with him, "where are we going?" I asked, almost running just to keep up with his long strides.

"To a patient interview" he said unblinkingly, "his name is Markus Sinclair, I'm conducting the interview and you're going to watch. Don't speak unless I give you permission, if Mr. Sinclair asks you any questions I will answer them for you, capisce?"

"Capisce" I replied, glad that I had taken my mother's advice and never worn high heels to work. Ever. Or this run-walk would have been much more painful than it already was.

He suddenly stopped in front of one of the doors, I nearly crashed into him. "Here we are" he said, opening the door and gesturing inside "ladies first." I obediently walked inside and stood next to the door, Dr. Avery sat down in one of the chairs, the one without the shackles in front of it, and pulled a small tape recorder out of his pocket. He gestured to the corner across from him, "you stand there, and please, try not to make too much noise." I nodded and stood in the corner, flushing my back against the wall.

He pressed the red button, there was a short whir of machinery and the recording began,

"Taped patient interview number twenty-seven, patient's name is Markus Sinclair, also present with me today is Beverly Fisher, a rookie doctor who has just arrived at Arkham. Mr. Sinclair hasn't made much progress in the past few weeks, I can detect little to no change in his behavior towards anyone, including myself and the other patients. I heard of an incident yesterday in which he got into an altercation with one of the night nurses over a spoon, they have no idea why he did so, nor do I. I'm curious to see how he'll react to Dr. Fisher. Hopefully, the presence of another person in the room doesn't aggravate him further."

_What a cheery fellow, _I thought sarcastically. He paused the recording, "that's how you begin a recorded interview."

I nodded, "why provide the background information?" I asked, "Wouldn't all that information be confirmed in previous recordings?"

"It's done in case a tape recording is lost or destroyed for any reason or something has occurred outside of the interview that should be on record." He said, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes.

"Oh, okay" I said sheepishly. This was going to be a long day.

Someone knocked at the door, Avery turned the tape recorder back on. "Come in." He said flatly. The door opened and two security guards escorted a beefy, mousy-haired man into the room. He sat down and the guards cuffed his hands to the table. Once he was sure his patient wasn't able to snap his neck with those enormous hands of his, Avery looked at the guards and said "you can leave us now." The two nodded curtly and did as they were told.

"Hello Markus, how are you feeling today?" He asked blankly.

"Like shit." Sinclair looked me up and down, smirking "who's the broad?" He grunted,

Avery cleared his throat, "the 'broad', as you put it, is Dr. Fisher, she will be observing our session today; though if there's something you don't wish for her to hear I can ask her to leave."

"Nah, let her stay. Nicer to look at than you anyway." He looked up at me, "what's your first name, sweetheart?"

I was about to answer, but luckily for me, Avery was quicker and cut me off.

"_I_ am conducting this session, Markus." He said through gritted teeth,

"C'mon, doc! I just want to know her name!" He whined,

Avery looked at me out of the corners of his eyes, and nodded.

"Beverly" I said, "my name is Beverly."

Avery nodded, and Sinclair flashed me a genuine smile.

"Well" said Avery brusquely "now that the formalities are out of the way, let's get to the point." He adjusted in his seat. "So, I hear that there was an incident yesterday with one of the night nurses, over a spoon, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"What caused you to act like that?"

"I told her the spoon wasn't right, but that bitch wouldn't listen, so I disciplined her, that's all."

"You grabbed her by the hair and pulled her onto the ground, you nearly snapped her neck."

Even though my spine tingled, Avery was extremely calm as he said this, clearly I had a lot to learn.

"Could have done worse." Sinclair replied.

"Why did you feel the need to discipline her?"

"Does it matter? I can do what I want with her."

_Megalomaniacal, _I thought, _good…_

Suddenly, a masculine scream rang out from somewhere in the asylum. I jumped and gave a short yelp. Dr. Avery shot daggers at me through his murky brown eyes, Sinclair chuckled but left it at that. The screaming continued, accompanied by a general commotion outside. They continued with the interview as if nothing was happening, _is this common here? _I thought, my face blushing with shame. Avery probably thought I was a ninny.

"So because she decided to-"there was a loud knock on the door. Avery snarled, "Come in." A blonde man's head peered through the door. "Dr. Avery? Something's happened, your presence is required."

Avery groaned "can this wait?"

He shook his head, "no."

Avery curled his lips back, "fine" he said, pausing the tape recording. "Guards!" He turned back to Sinclair, "we'll continue this later"

He stood up, "sure doc, will she be here?"

"_Maybe." _Avery replied. The guards escorted Sinclair out of the room.

Avery turned to me, "wait here." He said quickly, he walked briskly past me and then, as if he had something else to say, turned back. "Oh, and one more thing." He pulled a manila folder with several pages sticking out of it out of his bag and dropped it onto the table. "Congratulations" said Avery, his voice dripped with sarcasm "it's your first patient. Study it while you wait." He turned on his heel and loudly shut the door. I grunted, _charming, quite charming… _I thought with a scoff. I had only been there a few hours and already people had something against me! What had I done to _him_? Sure, I had shrieked during the interview, but that was an accident! And it's not as if anyone had _warned _me that screaming was common here! Besides, he had treated me horribly even before the shriek. What was his problem?

Sighing, I opened the file. _May as well get the jump on this, _I thought, taking the first sheet out.

…

Over an hour had passed. I had read the folder multiple times, sure that, if asked by Avery, I could spit out every last piece of information about the patient. Her name was Maura Banks, nee O'Leary, age 57. She had been sent to the asylum by her children when they found out that she had been swallowing sharp objects; from pencils and staples to pins and sewing needles. At first they tried just watching her and getting routine help from a care giver but they just couldn't stop it, she had gone through three operations in which the offending object needed to be surgically removed from her body. Apparently she had been admitted without much quarreling.

I sat in the uncomfortable, black-metal chair with my arms crossed over my chest, blowing at the shock of blonde hair that since had fallen in front of my eyes, utterly bored. _What happened anyway? _I thought. The screaming had long since ceased, in fact it was utterly silent outside of the room apart from the steady sound of radiators whirring outside. It was eerie.

I heard the click of the door knob turning, I quickly made myself look busy. Dr. Avery walked in, stared at me for a moment, as if surprised that I wasn't halfway across Gotham by now and said "sorry, that was a bit of excitement I wasn't counting on."

"What kind of excitement?" I asked, standing up and walking to his side. The look on his face said he wasn't going to tell me. "Right, patient confidentiality," I mumbled. "Where are we going now?" I asked, gathering up the file in my arms.

"Your first patient interview of course" he said "you have read the file I take it?"

"Yes" I said incredulously, _I'm not a complete dunce! _I silently added.

"Really? What's her name?"

"Maura Banks."

"Age?"

"57."

"Reason for her admittance?"

"She purposely swallows sharp objects, from pencils to nails." I said deliberately, thoroughly enjoying Avery's discomfort at the fact that I had actually done what I was told and hadn't completely screwed up as he had thought –or, hoped- I would. The corners of Avery's thin lips turned down ever so slightly as I said that last bit of information _ha! Take that! _I thought triumphantly.

"Come on" snapped Avery, it was then I noticed that I had slowed down, and I rushed to catch up with him "She's in room 150, follow me"

"Why do we have to go to a different room?" I asked, stuffing one last page into the folder.

"Mrs. Banks is in _minimal _security, Mr. Sinclair is in _moderate _security."

_Really? I didn't notice…_

I feebly muttered "okay."

I knew for a fact that the route we were taking was _not _the most efficient way to get to our destination, but, not wanting to risk a public tongue lashing, I kept my mouth shut. I think he knew that our route wasn't efficient too, because as he led me past the morgue, the door opened for a brief moment as a body bag was wheeled in. I cringed, "so that's what the commotion was about." Avery heard me though, and grunted, I think that may have meant "yes" but I've never been certain.

As we passed the morgue, I noticed a door on the other side of the hall. It was thin and indiscreet, it would have looked like a simple utility closet if it weren't for the sign above the door that read "Authorized Personnel Only."

"Dr. Avery?"

"Yes?"

"Where does that door go?" I pointed at the door and Avery looked.

"Oh, the basement" he said, with a look of what might have been discomfort in his eyes "maximum security."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." I said, cutting him off. "Who's allowed in there?"

"You aren't!" He snapped, stopping in front of a door labeled 150, "in here."

…

"Taped patient interview one" I said shakily into the tape recorder Dr. Avery had provided me with. "Patient's name is Maura Banks, also present with me is Dr. Peter Avery who will be supervising the interview for today. As this is my first session with Mrs. Banks, I don't fully know what to expect, but judging by what I've learned from her file I believe that she swallows sharp objects out of a sense of self-loathing." I paused the recording, Avery acknowledged me with a curt nod. A few minutes later someone knocked on the door, "come in." I started the tape recorder.

A nurse accompanied a short woman into the room. Locks of braided gray hair trailed behind her, her green eyes were sad and tired, thin creases ran across her aged face, the years had not been kind to her. She blinked at me twice as she sat down, "Josephine?" She asked, "Josephine, is that you?" She asked, squinting her eyes as if she was having trouble seeing me.

"No," I said, feeling a pang of sympathy for her; though I had no idea who Josephine was, she clearly had been important to her "my name is Beverly Fisher, I'm a doctor here."

"Oh" she said distantly, "I'm sorry, Dr. Fisher…"

"That's alright" I said quickly, "who is Josephine?"

Mrs. Banks' lower lip quivered, clearly it wasn't something she wanted to talk about yet, so I moved on. "So, Maura-do you mind if I call you Maura?"

"That's fine" she said, smiling weakly

"As this is our first session" I continued "I thought we might get to know each other a bit?"

Avery raised an eyebrow, "okay" said Maura.

We spent the next fifteen minutes or so talking about her life. She had married her high school sweetheart, Henry Banks at age 19, and they had two children, Grace, who was 18, and Matthew, who was 20. She described Grace as being a 'little ray of sunshine' and Matthew as being a 'kind hearted rascal'. She certainly hated herself though; believing that everything bad that had ever happened to her family was her fault in some way or another.

"I think that will be all for today" said Dr. Avery, cutting me off.

I shot him a confused look, he set his jaw as if to tell me that what he had said wasn't a request.

"Very well" I replied, "nurse!" The nurse entered the room and escorted Mrs. Banks out of the room. I turned to Avery, "what was that about? What did I do wrong?" I demanded as we left the room.

"Nothing" he grunted "I just thought you had had enough for the day."

_What a pompous ass! _I thought, "You thought _I _had had enough?" I asked, thinly disguising my irritation,

"_Yes_" he said firmly, turning around and staring at me with a hard look in his eyes, "and until you've earned your stripes, my opinion is more than enough. Do I make myself clear?"

I set my jaw, "crystal." I said through gritted teeth.

"Good." He muttered, "You've done enough for today, you can go home now."

That statement brought me immense relief, I hoped it didn't show on my face as I said "thank you, Doctor, goodnight." Avery grunted and walked down the hallway towards the morgue. I looked down at my watch, _5:40, _I still had a few minutes before I had to meet Wade. _I may as well familiarize myself with this place. _I thought, walking in the opposite direction Dr. Avery had taken, hoping I wouldn't run into him.

…

After exploring every floor of the institution aside from the basement level, which I had been informed by a nurse was only accessible by a select three doctors and some security guards, I walked outside of the building and looked for Wade. "Bev!" I turned and saw Wade walking over to me. "Hi, Wade!" I said, waving pleasantly at him.

"Sorry" he said, "I mean, _Doctor _Fisher. The two of us burst out laughing.

"How about we go to Ben's Diner? It's close by, I'm paying by the way!"

"Sure, sounds good!"

…

If I had to rate Ben's, I would have given about three stars, maybe two-and-a-half. The walls were unadorned brick with the occasional painting tacked to them, mostly they were of flowers or something else, though there was a beautiful photograph of a white lion on the back wall. The tables were covered with red and white plaid tablecloths, some tables were adorned with a single, often wilted, flower in a recycled Perrier bottle. Service was generally pretty slow, but despite all its faults, it made the _best _burger in Gotham.

Wade and I got lucky, we were given a seat right by one of the windows, and chatted as we mulled over the menu. It had three options; hamburger, cheeseburger, cheesesteak; this was not an advisable restaurant for vegetarians. Technically they did sell veggie burgers as well, but they were far from appetizing.

"So, who did you have to shadow today?" Asked Wade, putting the menu back on the table and crossing his arms,

"Dr. Avery" I groaned,

"Aw, I feel your pain; he's a grumpy piece of leather." Our waitress, a curvy, white woman with a pink buzz-cut, walked over to the table and placed two glasses of lukewarm water on the table. Her nametag read "Tasha". "You ready to order?" She asked pleasantly.

"I'll have a hamburger, medium-well, and no lettuce." She scrawled the order onto her notepad,

"And you, sir?"

"I'll have the same."

She quickly added "X2" "Okay, it'll be out shortly" she said before walking away, her red high heels chattering behind her.

He turned back to face me, "so, where were we?"

"Dr. Avery." I sighed, "It's like he's trying to get rid of me! He pulled me from an interview today and said that he thought _I _had had enough!"

"Ouch." Said Wade, grimacing.

"Why does he hate me so much?" I whined.

"Nah, he doesn't hate you, Dr. Avery doesn't hate anyone." Wade took a sip of his water and quietly added "except maybe Dr. Crane."

"Dr. Crane?" I asked.

"You haven't met him yet?"

"No."

He scoffed "don't."

"What's so bad about him?"

"He's- what's a polite way to say this?"

"Look, I get it, you don't like him, but what's so bad about him?"

"He's one of those people who will insult you to your face; but he's annoyingly polite about it. Like, if he thinks you're an idiot, he won't say 'you idiot.' He'll say" –he mimed taking off a pair of glasses- "'I understand that you are much less able minded than your peers Dr. Eckhart, but that's no excuse for blah, blah, blah…'"

"Ugh."

"Tell me about it! And the way he looks at people, it's as if he's deciding if the best way to kill you is by stabbing you in the jugular or by slitting both your wrists and letting you bleed out."

"Yeah, that's pretty creepy."

"Mmm-hmm. If he's not in the 'authorized personnel only' area, he's stalking around the asylum like a hungry cat searching for a nice, juicy mouse, you'll meet him soon enough if you haven't already." He sighed, "Anyway, getting back to Avery; he doesn't like anyone at first, do your job and keep your nose clean, and he'll warm to you eventually."

It was at that moment that Tasha came to the table with our burgers.

…

After we finished dinner, Wade dropped me off at my apartment building. I trudged inside and, after waving at the receptionist, stepped inside the elevator. I pressed the button marked "7". The elevator stalled, thought about it, and finally began to move upwards. 1…2…3… the elevator suddenly stopped moving. At first I thought we were picking somebody up, but the elevator stayed put and the doors wouldn't open. I groaned and pounded the area under the buttons three times, the elevator started moving again; they really needed to fix the wiring in our building.

I reached my apartment five minutes, and two stops later. After rummaging around in my pockets for the key I opened the door and walked inside. My apartment was nice; nothing glamorous but nice. The foyer was small with nothing but a coat rack, it then opened up to a small living room with white carpeted floors, a blue sofa, a small television, and a bookshelf with a few stacks of books (but mostly magazines) on it. To the left of the living room was a kitchen with a white refrigerator, a gas stove, a microwave, a counter and some cabinets, and to the right there was a bedroom with a double bed and drawers, and next to that was a small bathroom. Everything I needed, and more.

I dropped my heavy purse next to the door and hung my brown coat on the rickety coat rack before flopping onto the sofa. What a day! And what a week I had ahead of me!

_I can't believe Wade works at Arkham! What are the odds? _I smiled to myself. I looked at the clock, it was only 10:00, but it felt much later. In the words of my Grandmother "that's what city life does to you, Beverly-Garnett!" She always referred to me by both my names, it was a quirk of hers. I stood up, walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. A warm shower was just what I needed after a long day. As I got out of the shower a few minutes later, the phone rang. I groaned, it was too late for phone calls. As I put my hair up in a bun for the night the phone stopped ringing, and, after a brief pause, I heard the static noise that came just before someone left a message.

"Beverly?" Said a voice I didn't recognize "don't trust them, Beverly."


End file.
